


I Know Because I’ve Done it Thousands of Times

by punk_rock_yuppie



Series: Golden Chains From Star to Star [2]
Category: Saw (Movies)
Genre: A bit of a spat, M/M, Pretty smushy and corny ngl, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 14:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3695207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have a deal: Lawrence works overtime without letting Adam know, Adam gets a cigarette or two.</p><p>The deal isn't working.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know Because I’ve Done it Thousands of Times

**Author's Note:**

> Quote comes from the Mark Twain quote: "Giving up smoking is the easiest thing in the world. I know because I've done it thousands of times."
> 
> This one is sort of my thoughts about Adam’s smoking and the ever so cliche long work hours of Dr. Gordon. A bit too sappy but I’m pleased with it for the most part.

Lawrence eyes his boyfriend wearily. Adam can feel the stare on him, burning holes into his skin. He pointedly ignores the doctor’s gaze. The sweet cancer and ash drifts through his mouth and into his lungs. It forces the high of relief through his veins and makes him delightfully dizzy. It’s crazy to Adam, even after over two decades of casual smoking, how delicious nicotine high can be.

Lawrence makes a noise in the back of his throat, a cross between a growl and a swear. Adam, still, ignores it.

“Must you?” Lawrence asks with a voice full of disdain.

Adam silently mimics his boyfriend as smoke exhales through his lips; he mouths the words with a cocky tilt of his head, _must you?_ Adam shakes his head with a laugh. “Yes, I _must_.” He snaps back.

Lawrence is still standing at the open door of their apartment. He leans on his cane and good foot with lips pursed unhappily. Adam sits, comfortable and resilient, on their couch. The silence between them stretches until Adam has finished his cigarette and tossed the butt into the seldom used ashtray beside him.

Finally, Adam faces Lawrence. He doesn’t move from the couch, he only turns his body towards the door. His arms are spread open as if to say, _well?_

Lawrence sighs but doesn’t break the gaze. He staggers forward. It’s been a long day of disorderly orderlies and ornery patients. He knows he’s broken his promise to Adam, and that what Adam has done in retaliation is only fair. It doesn’t mean that Lawrence has to like it though.

He collapses by Adam on the couch and wrinkles his nose at the scent. “I’m sorry.” He says with a great sigh. Lawrence drops his head into his hands and rubs at his temples. “I’m sorry, Adam.”

“I know.” Adam retorts as he turns his body away from the doctor. “We had a deal.” He mentions with a shrug.

Lawrence chews the inside of his cheek; he folds his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry. It was a busy day. I couldn’t leave any sooner, but I swear I tried.”

“You couldn’t even call?” Adam snaps. “That was the deal. If you had to stay late, you had to _call_ me. Not text, not ignore me.” Adam feels a flush of heat climb up his neck—he feels far too needy. But they had a _fucking_ deal. “You were two hours late, two _fucking_ hours. So I got a cigarette.”

Lawrence groans softly. “I know, I _know_.” He snarls. “I had meant to call, I just _couldn’t_. You know what my job is like.”

Adam nods. “Oh, I know.”

Lawrence groans again and stands. “Fine, be a child! Smoke all you want.” He walks slowly to their bedroom.

Adam flinches as the door to the bedroom slams shut. He crosses his arms over his chest and sulks. He fidgets uneasily. Fights like this are too common between them and it’s nights like this that Adam wonders if they’d be better alone. Or, at least, separate from each other. Adam rubs at his eyes; he can smell the smoke and nicotine on his fingertips and cringes.

The deal was—any time Lawrence came home late from the hospital without calling Adam, Adam was allowed one cigarette. The deal started not too long after they had moved in together for the second time—the time in between is a long, different story. Despite agreeing to make things work again, Lawrence seemed to keep longer and longer hours at the hospital. So, with Lawrence out of the house Adam smoked as much as he liked; Lawrence was never home enough to even catch the fading wisps of smoke.

When things had come to a head for the second time, they agreed on the deal. Lawrence would try to work more reasonable hours, and Adam wouldn’t smoke. The deal had worked for a while, but as of late it was falling apart again.

Adam looks over to the door. There’s a faint stream of light trickling from under the crack of the door. If he strains his ears he can hear the soft sound of pages turning. Lawrence is already in bed, reading whatever novel it is that he’s engrossed with this time. Adam aches with fondness for a moment.

After being rescued from the dank bathroom, and after being welcomed into Lawrence’s home— _their_ home—things had been almost too good to be true. Adam felt giddy, even when weighed down by trauma and nightmares and absolute fear. Knowing that Lawrence was always nearby and always ready to help, and always loved him, helped Adam overcome the most rough patches of recovery. Adam had felt like a schoolgirl in love at times, as sheepish as he is to admit it.

Adam stares at the faint light. He misses those days; he regrets the stupid fights and mourns the days lost because of them.

Lawrence hates smoking for the reasons most people, doctors or otherwise, hate it. It stinks, it’s disgusting, it’s killing Adam slowly. Adam glances over at the ash tray.

He strands and shakes the nerves from his limbs. He walks to the bedroom door and knocks.

“It’s your bedroom too.” Is Lawrence’s reply.

Adam doesn’t enter and instead waits. He can hear Lawrence shift; the bed creaks and there’s the soft sound of the doctor crossing to the door.

“Are you okay?” Lawrence asks. Despite the angry lines of emotion drawn across his face, his voice is full of genuine concern.

Adam nods. “I was wondering if you wanted to take a shower with me.” His eyes are trained on their feet as he speaks. He scratches at his neck with an absent mind. “I stink.” He admits.

When Lawrence doesn’t answer, Adam looks up. Lawrence looks pleasantly flustered and it calms something inside Adam. Lawrence nods once their gazes meet; he takes Adam by the hand and they walk in silence to the master bathroom.

It’s a large luscious bathroom with a separate tub and shower. The shower is large and square, completely clear glass that steams up so easily; the walls of the shower are covered in Adam’s and Lawrence’s finger prints that can only be seen in the steam heat. The tub is modern and sleek, wide and deep with a cascading faucet. The water flows in a thick stream and fills the tub quickly.

Adam and Lawrence look to each other and then to the tub, then the shower, and then each other again. They both move to the bathtub without speaking, though they do shoot each other a grin. Adam flicks on the water, twisting the knobs to balance hot with cold. Lawrence gathers up their bathrobes—a luxury item Lawrence had insisted on and that Adam had come to love—and hangs them beside the tub.

As it fills, both men slip inside.

Adam shivers. The water is exceptionally hot and that’s the only way he can stand it. Cold water haunts him, and he can’t ever duck under the surface. Even here, in the steamy bathtub with Lawrence behind him Adam’s mind drifts to the grimy bathroom. He thinks of the disgusting slick substances inside the room, he thinks of the way he had struggled to breath with water coating his face. It was so fucking cold, so silent.

“Tell me about your day,” Adam requests.

Lawrence gives him an odd look but complies. He rambles on and Adam relaxes against him. By the time Lawrence details what he had for lunch, Adam is softly snoring. Lawrence grins and strokes his fingers through Adam’s hair. Adam murmurs in delight.

“I’m sorry,” Lawrence says softly.

Adam blinks into awareness, and tilts his head towards Lawrence. “I am too.”

“I don’t think this deal is going to work.” Lawrence shushes Adam before he can reply. “I don’t want to lose you again. I can’t.” Lawrence presses a kiss into Adam’s hair. “I’ll try not to work so long, but I can’t promise it will never happen, you know that.”

Adam, though he hates to admit it, does know that. “Yeah.”

“I will try though. That’s the best I can do.”

Adam nods. “I understand.” He kisses Lawrence chastely on the cheek. “Thank you.” Adam settles back against Lawrence’s chest. “I won’t smoke anymore. I only did it cuz you were so late.” Adam feels a flush of embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

Lawrence smiles against Adam’s skin. “It’s okay.”

Adam nods again. “Okay.”


End file.
